"If you can give of yourself to make a difference, then you are leaving a great impact.’’

The Rev. Thomas Ellis speaks at his annual holiday dinner for families affected by violence at the Clearview Baptist Church in Newark. He formed Enough is Enough Coalition, an organization that has been fighting against gun violence 20 years. Saed Hindash/The Star-Ledger

It’s not the kind of dinner you think of attending this time of year.

This one is for people like Pamela Ferguson, an evening to somehow soothe an unbearable sting that comes when lives are taken violently.

Her sons, Tamir Harry, 16, and Tahsir Harry 20, were close to home in Maplewood this summer when the accident happened. Harrison Allen, 20, of Montclair has been charged with driving drunk and speeding when he blew past a stop sign and crashed into the Nissan Sentra carrying the brothers and two other young men. Tamir and the passenger in the front seat were killed. Tahsir survived after a month on life support. The passenger in the back seat with him was critically injured.

Ferguson copes as best as she can, taking it one day at a time. She went to the dinner Tuesday night in Newark, not so much to receive support from others, she said, but to thank the man who remembers the families who have endured tragedy.

A special thumbs-up goes out to the Rev. Thomas Ellis, founder of the Enough is Enough Coalition, an anti-violence organization that’s been on the streets 20 years preaching against violence and comforting families struggling to find peace.

"It is my pleasure to show him some support after he supported me,’’ Ferguson said at Clearview Baptist Church in Newark. "I’m glad he’s been doing it this long and I hope he continues.’’

In some of Newark’s toughest neighborhoods, he shows up unannounced, often with a bullhorn or another way to amplify his voice. He’ll hold a family up in prayer and implore the community to combat this social plague, this indifference to life he knows all too well.

His great-aunt, Rosalee Newton-Overton, was stabbed more than 50 times during a break-in at her North Carolina home in 1989. After he started his organization in 1993 in Atlanta, Ellis said he was shot three times and left for dead in 1997 when someone robbed him at a gas station in that city.

That was the one year a dinner wasn’t held.

In 1998, he moved to Newark and continued his crusade. He says no to gun violence and violence in all forms, even when it seems like nobody is listening. He holds street memorials raging against the craziness, hoping his message gets through to someone.

He doesn’t waver, pausing only to realize that he’s been doing these dinners longer than he’s held any one job.

"I never thought I’d still be doing this for 20 years," he said.

A lot of it is done, he says, with donations from supporters who think he’s onto something. So he’ll scrape together money from their generosity to put on plays, getting kids to participate in his anti-violence productions. He coaches Little League baseball, takes kids to sporting events, anything to keep them from being the center of one of his vigils.

And when the holidays come, you can always count on the dinner.

He makes it festive with singing and music showcasing talented city youth. He encourages families to meet one another. He recognizes them from the podium, asking them to raise their hand if they’ve lost a loved one to violence.

"A lot of people think you have to be a millionaire to do something," Ellis said. "I’m just trying to show people you can be a little humble person with not a lot of money. If you can give of yourself to make a difference, then you are leaving a great impact."

And that has kept Loretta Lindsey coming to the sit-down dinner since 2004, the year she said her grandson was shot for no reason while sitting in a car in Newark. He was 17, a senior in high school, she tried to keep him busy and away from the streets.

Nearly 10 years have passed, but the hurt is still fresh for his grandmother. The dinner helps her through the pain, she said, though she still wonders why her grandson is gone.

Karimah Williams says it’s a mystery to her as well why her cousin, a truck driver, was shot and killed in 2010. Her brother, who was involved with drugs, died violently also, from injuries after he was shot. She said Ellis never judged her brother when he came out to grieve with her family, and for that, she’ll be forever grateful.

"He’s not pointing any fingers," she said. "Whenever somebody loses a loved one, I’ll put them in touch with minister Ellis."